Reepicheep's Book of Poetry
by Nothing Really Specific
Summary: Spend an evening with Reepicheep as he tells stories of valor, humor, truth, vice, virtue and everything in between. Poems are inspired by Poe, Donne, Whitman, Updike, Faulkner, and others. A/N: I am not a professional poet. PLEASE REVIEW! T: Themes, Mild Violence, Advanced Language/Subtext, and Poetic Devices. Theme Song: "Shadows" by Tenth Avenue North
1. This Dear Fellows is a Story

**Reepicheep's Book of Poetry**

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**Theme Song: **"Shadows" by Tenth Avenue North

( www. youtube watch?v=977jQU_3ypI)

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**Things You Need to Know Before You Start:**

1. I am not a professional poet

2. I do not claim to be good at poetry (refer to number 1)

3. I take inspiration from poets that I know. I do **not plagiarize **any of their work for it is against the copyright laws and it is just a dishonest thing to do. I take merely inspiration.

4. Be civil when reviewing (if you choose to do so). If I get something wrong (which I most likely will) with poetic devices or there's just a bad poem then be civil. Don't bash and be hateful. Be constructive and supportive. That's what you're supposed to do.

5. Have fun! :)

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**This Dear Fellows Is a Story**

This dear fellows,

A story of no time

Nor place.

Deals with valor,

Glory,

Regret and Pride,

Of a mouse

Who's name is surely mine.

So come on,

Be merry,

Go on,

Say so.

This tale is long

Just like mine whiskers,

So sit and relax

And summon your spinsters.

Relieve them of duty,

Pay them handsomely for time.

For it is a new age,

Let us begin with mine.


	2. A Poem for a Man I Hated Who Is Dead

Let me start with a tale of dread (so I can remove it hastily from my head) about a man who found himself dead.

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**A Poem for a Man I Hated Who Is Dead**

Death to the hypocrite

Who say to me.

"He was a man of great

Passion and certainty."

Down with the King

Who give him praise.

A man whom I hated,

Despised all his days.

Why, you ask

I wish a man dead.

Considering facts

He wished it first,

Only this was in reverse.

My honor was taken and stolen,

When the seal of mine love

Ravished and broken.

In vengeance I swore

To even the score,

So I went to his house

To set it.

He was dead in drink

And I was struck with regret

For I saw near me

A sweet dove

Who not what she was in danger of.

I left the place

Shook the man alive,

Brought him out and relived his thighs.

He asked me my business

I told him straight out:

"You stole my linage,

My love, my bride,

Now take thy pestilence

And begin to die."

So it is over.

The deed has been done.

The sweet dove cried in mercy:

"What have you done!"

I did not answer,

I simply walked away.

A major regret

That I hold to this day.


	3. The Day I Married a Murderous Pheasant

Now with that out of the way, let me tell you about a rather...interesting day.

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**The Day I Married a Murderous Pheasant**

The day I married a murderous pheasant

Wasn't all that joyous or pleasant.

I was sitting at home,

In this very chair

When I felt a sudden

Shift in the air.

She was boisterous

And rude.

Gawking and confused.

Standing in my doorway.

"What business have you,

If not relevant than leave.

For I am quite busy."

I said to her that day.

She looked at me

Smiling and said

Quite divinely,

"My love,

Don't you see,

That you married me?"

I looked at her again,

Noticing then

Remnants of a kiss,

Markings small enough

To be mine.

"Surely," I say,

"This is all just a folly.

You must confuse me

With someone else.

Perhaps my twin brother

Sought you out."

"Nay," she said,

"For it was you who wed me

And left me for dead."

Confused and annoyed,

I walked back to my chair,

And stared, stared, stared

At the wall.

Disbelieving my sudden

Loud, great fall.

She came in

As if she knew the place.

She walked towards me

I said: "Please, it's no race."

"Insulting me now, dear husband

Who is sly? Why did you leave me

On the road to die?"

I sighed, stood again,

And said,

"Dear woman, this is a waste of time.

I am not your lover,

You are not mine,

So why don't you just go back and-"

She cried.

"You don't love me at all,

They spoke of you, you know,

Said you were great,

Honorable and such.

But who leave a wife

In the dust?"

I rolled my eyes,

For this was a sham,

And knew that some way

It had to end.

So I left her alone

And went away

Came back an hour later

With Marcus, a pheasant

Who said:

"I teach her how to be

More pleasant."

They eloped

And went on their merry way.

As I sat back in my chair,

A note saying:

"You'll rue the day."

A week later

I was met with a quarrel,

Apparently she found

Evidence against me.

Saying once again:

"Why do you hate me?

You tried to butcher me

And leave me cold in the street."

I said to her calmly:

"Relax and rest your feet.

Surely there is a way

Out of this,

For my name to be clear

Along with your head.

Do you suffer from amnesia?"

She said she didn't know.

"Common answer," I said,

"Still, I need to know.

What is your name?"

She said it was Mary,

Her last name she said,

Was Quite Contrary.

I asked where she hailed

She said it was:

"Finchley"

I knew right away

The source of confusion.

So I beat her on the head

With a heavy book

Taking careful notice,

And a hard look.

"I think I know you,"

I said when she woke,

"You were out walking,

And heard me spoke.

I wager, when was the last time

You summoned a preacher?"

"Two weeks ago." She said.

Ah, that explains it,

I was reciting an original love song,

For a friend who desperately

Needed it to woo his lover.

It was Marcus.

"Dear woman," I said,

"You have been smitten by words

Fell on your head and assumed that I

Left you for dead."

She nodded, and felt her head.

"Did you hit me?" She asked.

"Yes." I said.

She choked,

Strangled,

Wrestled and fought.

Sending me to the ground

With a great huge kick and bound

To the groin.

I saw stars for a moment

My thoughts conjoined.

I parried and sought

To end the struggle

When she advanced at me

Continuing the tussle.

I saluted (with the blade)

She came stumbling

But bore no shame.

I helped her up,

Forced her out the door

And thought I would see

Of her no more

When she turned around

And slapped me

I deserved it.

Quick I sent for Marcus again,

Who came and said:

"My love she is not.

I thought she was true

But turns out she is a harlot.

Sorry about the head old boy,

I'll make it up to you with a Marlon."

She, who was helped by Marcus

Out the door,

Marcus threw her into a ditch.

I've been told that she has now

Engaged to my brother.

They sent an invitation,

I denied it,

Full resignation.


	4. To Paraphrase a Poet

Now, here is a view shared by most I think. Let us use our minds for a moment, I'll stoke the fire.

The is a paraphrase of John Donne's Holy Sonet 14, _"Batter my heart, three-person'd God"_

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**To Paraphrase a Poet**

O, Love,

Thou never art frail

Nor fading.

Even in the shadow of The End,

Mine heart, shall ye defend.

O, Life,

Thou end

To discover eternal quality.

Mine moving spirit, ye capture always.

O, Death,

Thou are swift and Harbinger

Of mine affection.

Enter and entrap me

Bring me into

His Ether.

O, Lord,

Artist of the World,

Master of mine judgment,

Pray, be just,

Tis a silly worry.

No need of those now.

For ye places them under

Into Fire

And Forever Under.

O, Brotherhood,

May ye always look yonder

To places ever higher

Than thou see.

The superseding Power,

Null Death's Victory!

Make us yours,

Place your Name

On our head

For you are a Bride,

A beautiful enchantment,

That enthralls mine eyes.

Eradicate all peevish desires

And earthly ideals.

May we be hostage to peace

And given life long sentence

Under Your Glamorous Jurisdiction.

The only true way

Ye can save me

Is to end me.

The only way

Ye can secure me

Is to have me hogtied.

The only way

I can be free,

Is to be imprisoned.

To paraphrase a poet

Who is Donne.


	5. The Innocence of Firefly Waltzes

Travel not to meager houses, for innocence is lost there. I say after this, a tea is in order. What say you to that?

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**The Innocence of Firefly Waltzes**

I walked across a field

One evening

As the fireflies danced a waltz,

Not having a care in the world.

The quintessence of innocence.

The River babbled

The Trees retorted back.

Everything was bliss

Just like innocence.

Eventually,

I came across a meager house.

One that was rotting,

Coursing with stench and

Foul ruin.

Peering my head to see

What the matter was,

There stood a picture

Of a ferret and bat.

The ferret, I knew

Was a fellow who used to say:

"All play and all work makes

Ye somewhat tired."

The bat, I did not know,

For he was a stranger.

Just as I was, in said house.

Moving quieter than myself

(Yes the pun intended)

I walked to the back room

Found the stench,

Which it was rooted.

The poor ferret had died

From the bat's gift,

A fruit, which was poisoned

And half-eaten.

In the corner was a grin,

Much that of a devil.

I backed slowly away,

Not wanting to stay

Any longer than necessary.

"Wait," the bat said,

"Must you go?"

"Yes." I replied,

"It is late and I have not yet supped."

"Me neither."

The bat flew over

A place unseen

Sat atop the door and spoke again:

"What do you call yourself?"

I stated my name

He gave his, it was simple:

Poe.

"Did you kill the ferret?"

I asked obviously.

"To quote yourself,"

Poe said, "yes."

"Why," said I,

"What did you detest about him?"

Silence took the conversation.

After no answer

I left the place.

This meager house

Which is most unfit

For innocent firefly waltzes.


	6. The Tea Break

**The Tea Break **

"Now does everyone have a cup and their fill?" Reepicheep asked.

After a brief check to make sure, the mouse was about to sit down again when a knock came around his door.

"Anon!" The mouse said with slight agitation, for he was about to recite _An Arab's Dear Imagination for My Dear Friend Kashmir, _when all of a sudden there was a break of the door fastener.

"I've been banging for hours!" The intruder replied with one great sigh. The mouse replied back at this, showing all his pride.

"What is the meaning of your clamor? Can't you be well more mannered? I have guests tonight and I don't wish for this, now please be gone, or state thy business!"

"Why dear friend," for it was Trufflehunter, "I have merely come to collect the honey jar you borrowed. You carry a detestable, detestable, detestable stance, a bit of floundering perchance?"

"Floundering dear fellow is not all my feeling." Reepicheep said, "Your honey jar is here, I'll fetch and be quick."

He exited the room as quick as he could and Trufflehunter looked around, stared and stood in thought.

"Why are cups and saucers being so ghostly?"

"Oh!" The mouse cried, for he heard the badger's phrase, "They dear badger are simply being all cozy, come stay awhile, listen to a story."

"Afraid I cannot," the badger said backing away, "the lark calls now, I must be away."

"Now come on dear friend, for the night is just young."

"Yes, but you seem to be a bit too high strung. You've been inside too long, take a breath of fresh air, so I can escape this awful endless prosy."

Reepicheep followed Trufflehunter out the door.

"Alright, tell me what's going on?"The badger said as he walked down a path by the river.

"What do you mean, what's going on?" Reepicheep asked, a bit confused.

"Why do you have floating dishes and are speaking in prose?"

Reepicheep shrugged, "Well, 'tis on the nose."

"You see, right there! You're out of your head."

"So was the fellow who wished me dead." Reepicheep said.

Trufflehunter rolled his eyes, "Why must you do this, rhyme with no reason? It's annoying, unacquainted, and awful."

"Just going by what he tells me to do." Reepicheep said with a smile and a wink.

"What was that?" Trufflehunter asked a bit turned off, "Did you just wink at me?"

"What? Was that wrong?"

"Well," Trufflehunter said, "it was a bit awkward."

"What are you talking about?" Reepicheep asked, "Are you saying that I made an overt action towards you because I can assure you that I did not."

"Well, it looked like it." Trufflehunter said, turning back towards the house.

"Where are you going?"Reepicheep asked.

"I walked all the way out here, might as well get something out of it." The badger walked through the threshold and said:

"Well come out, best not be dead about it." He looked to his left and said nonchalantly "Hello floating tea cup. How you are a possible I don't know but hey, I'm willing to start somewhere if you are," he extended his paw.

"Trufflehunter." He said. He felt his paw being shaken and accepted. "Well," the badger said, "this is rather interesting."

Reepicheep laughed and walked back into the house.

"Leave him be," the mouse said, "before he leaves and weaves an insane sweater."

"Too late," the badger said, "writing this down and going to town, may I use a feather pen?"

"Certainly," the mouse said, "right on the bread tin."

The badger moved to the kitchen, found his prize, and went back over to a vacant chair and began his writing with:

_This is how I began my demise. By listen to a friend recite nursery rhymes. If one should find this and reads it well, now that I'll be at the bottom. Wish me well. _


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